


The Hero Life

by ALCzysz17



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gift Exchange, Hero fic, JonsaHoliday2020, Smut, The boys and My hero academia mix, jonsa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:54:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27908560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALCzysz17/pseuds/ALCzysz17
Summary: Sansa came to King's Landing to become a hero, but life is complicated and lonely. Not all heroes are here to make friends, but to get a job done. Sansa struggles with the reality of the hero career and if dating that hot civvie, Jon Snow is even possible for her at all, if her anxiety issues and nerves don't get in the way first...
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 17
Kudos: 66
Collections: Jonsa Holidays 2020





	The Hero Life

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TaleWeaver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaleWeaver/gifts).



> Merry Christmas!! Happy Holidays!!
> 
> Enjoy this long gift! I hope it lives up to the prompt you submitted! ^_~

There were days when Sansa hated relocating her whole life to King’s Landing. The traffic was terrible, the people were worse, and the other superheroes…insufferable.

She crouched near the worse smelling garbage can in the world, wishing she went with her sister’s advice of using a mask that covered her entire face with a filtration unit. Perfect for avoiding toxic fumes and smell garbage cans of the city. Sansa forced herself to ignore it as she peered over the street where another person was crouched in the darkness.

It wasn’t uncommon for heroes to team up in this large and yet cramped city, especially when it came to Flea’s bottom. The scum of the city resided here and for any type of infiltration mission to succeed, there needed to be someone watching your back and vice versa. Sansa usually loved teaming up, it was how she because best friends with Rosemary or when she wasn’t dressed in vines, roses and scantily at that, Margaery Tyrell.

A mishap on a mission together revealed her identity to Sansa and so, she felt compelled to reveal hers to Marg to avoid the utter embarrassment of her identity revealed, but also the worry of who seen you and what they will do with that knowledge. Luckily, it tightened the bond they had already created working together and now, Marg made it easier for Sansa to enjoy life in King’s Landing, away from her home up North and her family.

Unfortunately, she was not partnering with her bff tonight.

There were quite a few heroes residing in King’s Landing, the crime rate was astronomical, and the criminals never slept. Sansa found herself working with a variety of heroes from the self-made heroes to the superpower born heroes like herself. Some got along well while others…

Sansa glanced back to the dark shadow peering around the cover of the building that covered him so well and completely. His dark mask kept him well hidden, coming down to almost cover his mouth as well. She couldn’t even see his eyes because of the darkly tinted glass covering them. Her own mask was a dark blue with dark trimming of grey along with the rest of her outfit down to her steel toed boots with large, supportive heels.

Arya was adamant that she had strong, heavy boots to avoid twisted ankles and struggles with running in pointed heels. Marg didn’t have issues in her heels though, mind you, she controlled plant life, so there was never much need for her to run to begin with.

She envied Marg for that, but Sansa enjoyed the chase and take downs more. There was nothing better than knocking a crook on their ass especially if they happened to make a misogynist comment towards her. Wiping the smirk off their faces always brought a pep in her step.

Glancing at the apartment they were staking out, Sansa turned her gaze up the building until she located the windows that belonged to the specific apartment they were here for. A massive drug deal was about to go down tonight between to rival gangs within Flea’s bottom. The police were tipped off and so, the information was passed on to her agency, but it was also passed on to his as well.

Between their agencies, it was decided to do a joint mission so that both of them would benefit the bust. Sansa fought tooth and nail to get the assignment for herself, but she was too fresh in the business, too green to take on such a huge case on her own. Any argument she thought up fell on deaf ears and now she was stuck working with him.

Crow.

He normally worked alone from what she could get on him. He didn’t talk much, and he kept to himself. He was strong though, super quick reflexes beyond human capacity and heightened senses. Crow was a very formable opponent and hero. Marg suspects that he’s really hot underneath his costume. Sansa would roll her eyes at that. Good looks did nothing for his lack of personality.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to get to know him either. She tried her darndest to be friendly with him, but he was so closed off. His mask hid everything, and his hero suit was just black on black on black. He was a mystery and the media loved it.

Sansa did not.

She didn’t need to know his identity underneath that mask, but to know that he didn’t look down on her or wished to work with her at all would be nice.

It’s just your insecurities eating away at you, Sansa, she thought with a dismissive shake of her head. She then wrinkled her nose; overthinking wasn’t going to change anything, and it certainly wouldn’t do during this stake out.

The window’s curtains were still open, showing just enough of the inside of the front apartment with shadows passing here and there. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing suspicious. She peered over at Crow to see him watching the building intently then as though he knew she was watching him; he turned his head slightly to stare over at her.

“Everything alright?” his deep voice rumbled in her earpiece.

“Fine from this angle, you?” Sansa answered, glancing away as her cheeks colored slightly. She didn’t mean for him to catch her studying him.

“Fine. The deal should be happening in minutes, keep your guard up.” His voice clipped out, ending their conversation. He was so very to the point and that was a good quality to have, but that left much to be desired in his personality, or so she thought.

Pulling out her phone, she noted that it was five minutes before midnight when the deal was supposed to happen, yet no one has appeared in front of the apartment since the occupants arrived two hours ago. Maybe they were tipped off about the tip off? It wouldn’t be the first time such a thing happened, in that case, the police were listening and waiting on their end and heroes were on standby in case the operation had been moved.

As she put her phone away, Sansa heard the rumble of a car then watched as a sleek car that looked out of place with all the rust bucks that littered the street. It pulled swiftly up to the curb before turning off. Her eyes drew to Crow as he slinked back into the shadows, ever vigilant. She followed his moves, leaning closer to the building she was at, keeping to the shadows.

Two men came out first, thugs that glanced around as they walked onto the sidewalk. One moved to open the backseat door where another man stepped out. He was dressed well with a large suitcase in one hand. The deal was ready to commence.

“I’ll take the fire escape up, you go through the front once they are inside,” Crow stated firmly then he disappeared into the darkness of the night.

Sansa pressed her lips together as she watched the men enter the apartment building. No one was posted at the front entrance, but that would be too suspicious looking. After two minutes of waiting, she quickly ran across the street, approaching the stoop that lead up to the building. Slowly, she walked up the steps, peering through the glass around the door to see the entrance way empty.

It was nice to feel a blast of central heating after spending the last three hours staking out in the cold. Sansa walked slowly, listening carefully. It was a four-floor building and the deal was set at the fourth floor. Hearing nothing that indicated anyone was around, she moved up the first flight of stairs to the second floor.

Nothing.

Sansa moved quickly to the second set of stairs, heading up to the third floor. It was there that she noticed a man stationed at the beginning of the third set of stairs, leading to the fourth and final floor. He was a big, burly man with arms tightly crossed over his chest and a bored expression on his face. His boredom confirmed to Sansa that no one knew their drug deal was tipped off and would not expect any heroes to appear.

When Sansa first tried the boots, she felt they were clunky and made it so hard for her to sneak around, but with practice and help from her little sister, she was able to master the art of walking without making a sound. She moved slowly, yet swiftly, coming up near the thug before he noticed she was there.

As he turned to look at her, Sansa punched him square in the face. He fell back against the stairs and with a quick, hard kick with her foot, he was out cold. She waited and listened but heard no one calling out for him or coming down the stairs, so she stepped over him and continued on. As she poked her head up from the stairs, she found no one else stationed around.

“Everything alright, Birdie?”

“I took out one thug, but there’s no one else stationed outside the apartment,” Sansa answered, shaking off the sudden chill going down her spine from hearing Crow call her by her hero name.

“There was one out on the fire escape,” Crow answered back.

“You would think they would have more men littered about.”

“Probably shorthanded.”

“I suppose…” Sansa trailed off, stopping at the door to the apartment, 4D.

She pressed her head against the door, hearing voices talking behind the door. It was too muffled for her to make out anything specific though. There was some yelling after a minute then a metallic noise.

“Birdie, move!” Crow shouted into her earpiece as Sansa jumped back from the door to the side as bullets shot through the wood where she had just been pressed against the door.

Heart pounding, Sansa prepared herself as the door was knocked cleanly off the hinges. Just as two men appeared with guns in hand, Sansa opened her mouth and screamed. A blast of sound waves came forth from her vocal cords, sending the two thugs right off their feet and into the back wall of the hallway.

Running up to them, she brought her heeled boot down against one thug’s head, knocking him out as the other pushed himself up. He moved to grab her, but Sansa screamed another shockwave at him that knocked him out completely. She turned to approach the door, peering around to see two men down and Crow standing there as the man with the suitcase cowered in the corner.

“You okay?”

Sansa nodded as she came to stand beside him. Glancing around, she found no drugs laying around. The apartment wasn’t very big and there was minimal furniture inside. While Crow called the police, she investigated the bedroom then bathroom. It wasn’t the cleanest place, but it wasn’t a drug den either.

“Police are on their way and I have suitcase tied up in the kitchen,” Crow stated, appearing at the doorway into the bedroom.

“There’s no drugs here, Crow.” She turned around to see him nodding.

“I noticed that too. There’s nothing here and yet this was tipped as a drug deal.”

“Bad intel?” Sansa inquired, opening the closet to see barely any clothes within. She shifted shoe boxes around, but there was nothing suspicious that was popping up at her.

“Possibly. More likely, it was misinterpreted.”

“Misinterpreted? What was in the suitcase then?”

Sansa closed the closet with a sigh. Crow was peering underneath the bed with a handle little light he probably pulled from his utility belt.

“Paper, tons of paper,” he answered.

“Great. This is going to look bad for both our agencies if this gets in the media that we didn’t bust a drug deal.” Mostly, it’ll be a low grade for her and that meant getting shitter missions and less media coverage on her as well.

“There might be something more to this that we aren’t seeing right now.”

Sansa nodded, but already she was pegging this as a bust. There was a loud knock and the police announced themselves. They both came out to greet them and so, the mission was finished out with the men involved taken to the police station and their night, more or less, finished after debriefing at their agencies…

\---------------------

Sansa sighed as she looked through the magazine rack, seeing images of other heroes on the front of many covers, but unfortunately, not her. She kept telling herself that it wasn’t a big deal and that soon enough it’ll be her time to grace her presence on the cover of a magazine or be interviewed for a late-night show. Not everyone could be Margaery, she thought as her eyes picked out her best friend in her risqué uniform.

She browsed through more of the covers before continuing her walk down the street. She got paid well enough with the agency and it covered most of her expenses, but there was nothing like having a normal type job especially in such a hero crowded city like King’s Landing. Up North at Winterfell, there weren’t as many heroes because of how widespread the country was and so, it wasn’t as exciting in her opinion. She’ll leave Robb to his domain of hero work up there.

With such an up and down job of being a hero, Sansa figured working for a magazine, writing pieces here and there worked best with her unconventional work schedule. The day was nice, and the city park would be a great place for her to relax and get another short piece done for the magazine she worked for; The Red Keep.

It was mostly a fashion magazine, but it also had different articles and some news. Sansa tended to do some articles about the good things that people were doing for King’s Landing, to show that the large city was more than the trouble that is always brewing in Flea’s bottom. Her current article that she needed to finish on was about the effort to restore all the parks in King’s Landing with the largest already done and where she was currently setting up at a picnic table.

As she got herself set up, Sansa glanced around herself periodically, watching kids play at the small playground to her right then following the movements of joggers following the paved path that circled and zigzagged throughout the park. One in particular caught her eye though. A guy with dark hair pulled back in a manbun and dark blue hoodie with black shorts that showed the muscles in his thighs.

Meow, she thought as she followed his movements. She quickly glanced away when he suddenly looked at her. Sansa quickly started typing on her laptop, hoping he hadn’t actually noticed her checking him out.

She’d only been living in King’s Landing for just over six months now. It was hard for Sansa to make good friends especially with keeping her hero identity hidden as well. It really worked out perfect with the situation with Marg, otherwise Sansa would be without any type of true friend. Finding friends was hard enough, not to mention dating.

The thought of dating was possibly the furthest thing from her mind currently, but it has been well over a year, almost two since she had dated anyone, or more like, fucked anyone. Sansa wasn’t one to have a casual fuck, but there were many times in the last few months where she was tempted to find herself a booty call. Tinder was downloaded on her phone, but she hardly bothered with it.

Men can really be so disgusting, especially on that app.

Sansa shook her head, pushing away those thoughts to focus on her article. She got through quite a bit of her story before the table suddenly shifted from added weight. She turned her eyes up to see the male jogger from earlier straddling the bench opposite her. Sweat dripped down his forehead and neck, drawing her gaze to those points before forcing her eyes to connect with his. He gave her a small smile.

“Do you mind?” he asked with a deep northern accent. Sansa shook her head, lack of words draining out of her head as a rush of nostalgia and longing for home came over her.

“You’re from the North?” Sansa asked, realizing that just staring at the sexy, sweaty man was going to become awkward if she didn’t say something.

“Aye, up near Castle Black,” he answered, wiping off his hand before leaning across to shake her hand. “Jon Snow.”

“Sansa Stark.”

His hand was warm, and his grip was strong yet not overbearing. Little tingles of warmth trailed down her arm. She sorely missed his hand when he pulled back from her.

“You are also from the North?” Jon inquired lightly.

“Guilty. I’m from Winterfell.”

He nodded quickly. “I can tell, your accent isn’t quite as thick as further up North.”

“You mean like yours,” Sansa pointed out, her lips spreading widely in a smile. She hardly knew this man and yet was immediately intrigued by him. Maybe it was the fact that he reminded her so much of her father with his accent, or just the North in general.

She really missed her family.

“Aye, like mine. How long have you been living in King’s Landing?” Jon shifted around to face her fully, apparently just as interested in her as she was in him.

More warmth pooled through her limbs to the center of her body at his immediate interest and focus upon her.

“Half a year or so, but I do miss the North. I miss the below zero winters and snow. I never thought I would say that once I moved, but I guess home will always mean something, no matter how much you want to leave.”

Jon nodded, propping his chin up with his hand and elbow on the table. “Agreed. I used to hate the snow so much. It would get so cold at Castle Black, I thought for sure that I would never know what it was like to feel warm ever again.”

“Oh,” Sansa gasped, “You lived at Castle Black then you’re…” she could smack herself for how tactless she was just now.

Castle Black was known primarily for taking in orphan children, it was usually the last place children would go once they aged out of the orphanages in Westeros.

“I’m sorry, that was so stupid of me,” Sansa quickly apologized, but Jon merely shrugged though his smile did disappear.

“It’s alright, I never had parents, but I can say I had many brothers and sisters.”

“I can relate,” Sansa commented, latching onto anything to move the conversation on from reminding Jon of his orphan status.

“Oh, so you have a sibling or two?” Jon asked, seemingly happy to move on as well.

“More. I have a little sister and three brothers.”

Jon lowly whistled. “Your parents must have wanted a big family.”

Sansa nodded, pushing her laptop aside to give him her full attention. “Yes, they did…”

Unfortunately, her article was sent very late to her editor, but Sansa just could not stop talking to Jon Snow. They talked for hours at the picnic table, leaving him with dried sweat on his skin and her coffee ice cold. Yet none of that mattered to her. Jon was so interesting, he worked as a trainer at a small gym on the outskirts of Flea’s bottom, he has been living in King’s Landing for about three years now and he was originally born down further South in Dorne.

Sansa could not get enough information about him. He liked his coffee black, his steak well done, and tended to eat far more takeout than he should as a gym trainer. He enjoyed reading more than watching tv, and he preferred jogging around the park more often than training in the gym. Jon spoke with a cautious manner, as though he thought deeply about what he was going to say before it came out of his mouth. He was also thoughtful, considerate, and he actually called back to information she provided him earlier in their conversation, showing that he paid attention to her.

Her last boyfriend could hardly remember her own birthday, much less remember everything she talked about in the almost five-hour conversation she had with Jon, and yet, he remembered every detail. It was not only gratifying to have someone pay such great attention to her, but it made her like him even more, if that was possible at this point.

She had practically tripped over herself to get his phone number before they went their separate ways. Not even the crying/yelling of her editor, Gilly Crastor could put a damper on her mood for the rest of that day. Sansa was walking on cloud nine.

“You’re being rather spacy today,” Marg commented, eyebrow arched as she eyed Sansa over. They were meeting for dinner at a small Dornish restaurant.

“Yeah, well…” Sansa trailed off, her lips stretching into a goofy smile.

“Was he good?” Marg asked next, gaining a gasp from Sansa.

“No! I mean that didn’t happen! I just met someone today at the park while I was finishing up my article for the magazine,” Sansa explained quickly, feeling her face burning as her best friend laughed loudly.

“Oh, your face is so red right now!” Marg continued to laugh for a good minute before settling down. “Okay, so tell me all about him.”

“His name is Jon Snow and he’s from the North,” Sansa started off, telling Marg how they met and the majority of their five-hour long conversation.

Margaery smiled softly then stated, “You are so cute when you like someone. It’s so adorable.”

“Oh, shut up!” Sansa crossed her arms over her chest.

“I mean it, Sansa. I wish I still felt that way about men…and women.” She shrugged before continuing, “Anyway, are you going to text him when you get home?”

Sansa nodded. “I really want to, but do you think that’s too soon?”

“Well it’s a little too late to play hard to get after talking for a few hours, don’t you think?” Marg pointed out. She paused as their food was delivered to the table. “I mean if you really like him then just shoot him a text saying ‘hi’ or something.”

“I’m nervous,” Sansa admitted, pushing around the mushrooms in her ravioli dish.

“What’s there to be nervous about?”

She shrugged in answer then took a bit of her food. Once she swallowed, she turned her gaze onto her best friend. “I don’t know how to date with my…unconventional job.”

“Ahhh…” Marg nodded, stabbing a small meatball with her fork. “I see what you mean.”

“How do you do it?” Sansa asked.

“I don’t.”

“What? But you were seeing that guy you met at the botanical gardens.”

Marg shook her head, her eyes focused on her food intently. “For a few fuck sessions, but beyond that I drop them before it gets too serious. I don’t have the time for long commitments especially with a normie. I tried, don’t get me wrong, but it never works out. You eventually get called a workaholic or in my case, a slut or whore then they walk out on you.”

“Marg…”

“I’m fine, its just hard to have a relationship with someone who isn’t…comfortable with your…what did you call it? Oh right, unconventional job. One way or the other, it comes down to choosing the job or choosing the partner.” Marg shrugged.

“Right,” Sansa mumbled, her excitement about Jon suddenly draining out of her.

“Oh, Sansa, I don’t mean that for you!” she exclaimed, reaching over to grab Sansa’s idle hand. Her appetite gone.

“It all sounds rather hopeless though. When I lived in Winterfell, before I decided I wanted to make my career in King’s Landing, I dated here and there, but now that I think about it…they did end because of my career.” Sansa sighed, dating a normie would be hard no matter what, it would be easier to date another hero like herself, but the agencies were very protective of their heroes’ identities and it was a rarity for other heroes to know each other beyond the masks.

Her and Margaery were outliers if nothing else; they definitely weren’t the norm. Though many heroes partnered up for missions, they weren’t exactly known for being the friendliest, or looking to be friends with other heroes. It was tough enough trying to get the attention of the media to up your hero status, making friends with your competitors didn’t always work out.

Sansa was never truly in it for the fame of being a hero, but acknowledgement was always nice. Knowing that you were doing the right thing and helping the helpless always warmed her heart and called to her very soul. No matter how small the act was, it was something Sansa believed in wholeheartedly and it was a career path she worked hard towards even with her family’s strong superhuman abilities.

Robb had super strength, Arya could change into any person she met, Bran could see into the future and Rickon could shift into a direwolf of all things! Sansa wasn’t without her strengths in her superpower. Her strong vocal cords allowed for her screams to send shockwaves that can be so power that one time she shattered all the windows and lightbulbs at her high school and almost damaged many students and teachers’ eardrums. She could also entrance others when she sang, making for a good distraction during infiltrations, she could even make people fall to sleep if she sang a particular lullaby.

Dating was a part of life, but she could never give up her career for someone else, could she?

Sansa sighed, removing her hand from Marg to cover her face. Reality had quite literally knocked her off cloud nine to land painfully on her ass.

“Sansa, look,” Marg insisted, pulling away her hands from her face. “Just because it hasn’t worked out before doesn’t mean it won’t this time? You’re in the beginning stage, you’re interest in this Jon guy and he seems pretty interested in you. What harm could come from getting to know him further?”

“Falling for him and breaking his heart and mine in the process,” Sansa uttered, feeling rather disheartened. 

“How can you know that if you haven’t even tried?” Marg pointed out, stealing a ravioli from Sansa’s plate.

“I could call my little brother and ask.”

“Stop being so pessimistic, it’s not you. You were so happy earlier about this guy.”

“Until reality knocked me on my ass,” Sansa grumbled, pushing her plate away. She’ll get it boxed up and taken home for later when her appetite came back.

“Hey, just remember that you’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Sansa nodded, but she wasn’t so sure now…

\---------------------

She couldn’t stop staring at his name in her phone with nothing but empty whiteness underneath, just waiting to be filled with text messages between them. Sansa went back and forth if she should message Jon or not. The conversation with Marg earlier really put a damper on her mood and enthusiasm about talking with Jon and seeing him again. He was a great guy, but was he a great guy for her? Hero career and all?

Sansa wasn’t sure.

Half of her wanted to say, ‘fuck it’ and text him, but apprehension held her at bay. What if she was just setting herself up for disaster? Or what if she was currently self-sabotaging from not messaging him? Sansa felt like she was tossing from left to right, filled with indecision that would eventually ruin everything without her doing a thing.

She was tempted to call Bran up and ask him to peek into her future, but she was worried what he’d see. After he seen something terrible when they were younger, he decided to never look into the far future of his family and friends, or himself. Bran never told anyone what he saw and who was affected, it made them all wonder and for a brief time, consumed with fear before eventually they forgot about it.

She never did though.

Sometimes, Bran would look at her and he would look so sad. Sansa would pretend she didn’t notice, but she did, and it was always in the back of her mind. Robb somehow managed to get out of their little brother that he didn’t see any of them die, but that was all he’d say. Bran could go for days without speaking if he was so inclined to do so. It meant trying to get him to say more was near impossible unless he wanted too.

Groaning, Sansa flipped onto her right side, clutching her phone tightly in her hand as she stared at Jon’s name. Maybe she should just delete his number? What was the point in bothering to pursue a relationship, friendship or otherwise, if it would only end horribly? Maybe she should just spare them both the hurt that will happen down the line?

It hurt, but Sansa finally agreed with her thought process and highlighted Jon’s name. Her thumb hovered over the delete button, urging her thumb to press down on her phone when it vibrated. She jumped, dropping the phone to her bed.

There, where it had been nothing, but white emptiness underneath Jon’s name now had a text message from him.

Sansa peered down to see what he said.

**Do you like dogs?**

She stared down at the message for almost a minute before bursting out laughing so loudly, she made everything in her room shake. Sansa clamped her mouth shut though she couldn’t stop the giggles from escaping her tightly pressed lips.

She was going through all this turmoil, going back and forth if she should just delete Jon from her phone altogether and he texts her asking if she likes dogs. Immediately, all that turmoil and stress disappeared as if he knew and snapped his fingers to will it all away.

Pulling her phone up, she tapped the message bar and typed out:

**I love dogs!**

Almost immediately a picture appeared of a large, white husky, tongue hanging from the side of the dog’s mouth and happy eyes peering at the camera.

**Ghost my dog**

Sansa smiled brightly, cradling her phone close to her head.

**Hes beautiful! And he looks so happy too!**

**Hes a pretty good boy – well trained by yours truly**

**Will I get to meet him?**

**I think we both would like that a lot**

Sansa’s cheeks were hurting from how wide her smile was.

**I would too**

\---------------------

“How’s King’s Landing? Any trouble?”

Sansa rolled her eyes though she couldn’t erase the smile on her lips. Robb will never stop being the overprotective older brother, no matter how old they become.

“Trouble around every corner, but none that I can’t handle,” she answered brightly, laying down on her bed to get comfortable. “King’s Landing is okay, very different from Winterfell and kind of hard to get use too.”

“You adapt better than I ever would though I still don’t understand why you had to move so far away and in the South! It’s so hot.” Sansa shook her head.

“It’s really not that bad and at least I have a good friend in my editor and a really good hero friend in Rosemary. So, I’ll get use to things down here soon enough. How’s hero work back home?” She asked quickly, aiming to turn Robb away from trying to guilt trip her about moving to King’s Landing. Their mother and father have already done enough of a guilt job when she announced the move.

“It’s great, I’m constantly in the newspaper which is nice. All the ladies want a selfie with me,” Robb bragged, going on a little more about his interactions and hero work.

“Nice, nice. How’s Arya? I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks now…”

Robb gave her a dry chuckle. “Yeah…I think she’s undercover right now. She called me the other day and I am so fucking tired of her calling when she’s in disguise! I mean before she called I accidentally bitched out the mechanic working on my car because I thought it was her. I’m pretty sure he’s going to charge me more just for that!”

“Arya always liked to mess around with us like that. Remember the time she turned into that girl Theon was so into back in school? He tried to go up to her to kiss her and the girl’s varsity quarterback boyfriend decked him!” Sansa laughed as she recalled the situation.

“I thought Theon was going to go full Kraken on her. He had a black eye for two weeks,” Robb remarked, chuckling too. “Well aside from her shenanigans, Bran’s doing pretty good. He always has work to do and Rickon….”

Sansa groaned. “What did Rickon do now?”

“He got upset because his third period teacher gave them a pop quiz. Instantly turned direwolf in the middle of class…everyone had to get their minds wiped…again…”

“He really needs to get a handle on his emotions.” Sansa pinched the bridge of her nose. Rickon has always been wild, so much so, that they knew he had inherited the Stark superpower. Their father and his brothers and sister could turn into direwolves, and had Ned married within the North then most likely all of the kids would have the same power.

Their mother and her ability to manipulate water threw a wrench into the inheritance mix, thus everyone came out with different abilities. It seemed having two powerful families intermixing produced many different abilities for the offspring.

“Hey, we all had our issues growing up with our powers. I can’t even count the times I accidentally broke walls, doors, chairs and even the railing for the stairs when I was in school. Arya was constantly skipping class and turning into anyone else for pranks, and remember the time your boyfriend broke up with you before junior prom? I still have hearing issues by the way…”

Sansa couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s been seven years, Robb.”

“And I still have hearing issues…”

“How did Mom and Dad take Rickon’s latest tantrum?”

“Well, it’s hard to get mad at the kid. Dad is more lenient about it than Mom. He’s gonna have to go to some therapy sessions to help him work on controlling his emotions to avoid the outbursts, but I mean, he’s a teenager,” Robb commented, waving it off. “I’m done talking about it. Tell me about the heroes down there? Tell me more about Rosemary.”

“I knew you were going to circle back about her.” Typical Robb, the moment she mentioned working with Marg, he immediately wanted to know about her and if she could give him Marg’s number.

“What? You get to interact with a ton more heroes than I do.”

“Right.”

“Come Sans.”

Sansa scoffed, turning on her side to stare out the window of her bedroom with her phone smashed against her pillow. “I’m not talking about Rosemary anymore,” she warned. He complained about a second but let up as she spoke. “I’ve gotten to work with some lower level heroes here and there. But recently…I got to work with Crow again.”

“Well don’t sound so happy about it,” her brother sarcastically joked. “What’s wrong with the guy? I heard he’s really good, one of the top tiers in King’s Landing.”

“Oh well, don’t get me wrong, he’s a great hero but…” Sansa bit her lip.

“But?” Robb egged on.

“He’s so standoffish, Robb! I try to talk with him, just to get to know him a little bit more but he rebuffs me every time! He’s so completely and utterly focused on the mission, which isn’t a bad thing, but it’s like talking to a wall! And! He is so fucking bossy! I mean, hello! I’m a hero too! I know how it goes; you don’t have to walk me through it like a civvie!” Sansa huffed at the end, flipping back over on her back.

“Damn, Sans, tell me how you really feel.”

“He really is a great hero,” Sansa quickly stressed, “but he gets on my nerves too. I…I haven’t been completely honest with everyone like I have with you, Robb. It’s been sooooo hard down here, if the mishap with Rosemary hadn’t happened…”

“Hey, hey, we all knew it wasn’t going to be easy for you. You’re a people pleaser and you are a very personable person, Sansa. For many heroes, they like to keep their hero life and personal life separate. It’s pretty normal and agencies push for it too,” Robb explained gently, his soothing, brotherly voice instantly calming her down.

“Not us,” Sansa commented though it sounded more like a whine.

“We’re a special case, Sans. It’s unusual for a family to have so many supers,” Robb reminded her with a soft chuckle. “Two out of five, sure, but every single one of us has unique abilities from each other. I mean, we only knew about Theon’s power because he came to live with us remember.”

“Yeah, I remember.”

Theon’s father had once been a well-known hero, but substance abuse had caused him to lose his job then he turned to crime to make ends meet. He pitted his children against each other, physically and mentally abusing them. Theon’s siblings were able to leave as they got older, but not him. He was the youngest and got the brunt of everything especially as the only child to have superpower.

Their father came in and arrested Theon’s father then out of the kindness of his heart, he took Theon into the family.

“Just give it some time, if any of us can make it in King’s Landing, it’s you.”

Sansa wiped away a stray tear. She didn’t admit it to their parents or younger siblings, but it was starting to take a toll on her living down here alone. Margaery did make things better and even Gilly as well, but she needed more, either something big to happen at the agency to boost her appeal in the media or maybe…meeting someone for a date…

\---------------------

Her legs were feeling just a tad like jelly as she walked, and she had to keep her hands clenched into fists inside her coat pockets to keep them from fidgeting nervously. She was meeting Jon at a dog park, not too far from the park they had met in.

Sansa had to keep telling herself that they were simply meeting up and that she said she wanted to meet Ghost, but her stomach kept screaming loudly ‘it’s a date!’

It’s not a date, we are just hanging out, getting to know each other, Sansa thought, willing her heart to slow down as she made her way down the street. She was tempted to text Marg about it, but her nerves were too jumpy, and she knew that her friend would tell her it’s a date.

There were still some apprehension for her about meeting up with Jon. What if it didn’t work out? Dating a civvie had never really worked out for her before, but then she hadn’t been a full-fledge hero either. The horror stories she heard and read on the internet didn’t help much as well. There were success stories though, all of these were anonymous, of course, but it wasn’t uncommon.

Not all civvies were normal people as well. Her mother never became a superhero while her father had been for many years before retiring her senior year of high school. Her mother had spoken of the ups and downs, and Sansa had witnessed them as well. As Catelyn had told her once, nothing worth having is ever going to be easily attained. It takes hard work from each person involved and compromise.

Still, Sansa had her worries.

Once the dog park came into view, Sansa pinpointed Jon quickly. It was hard not to miss the massive white husky. Jon turned to her as she approached.

“Hey, Sansa,” Jon greeted, smiling at her. Her stomach jumped at the sight of his smile.

“Hi!” she replied back, giving a little wave to him before turning her sights on Ghost. “You must be Ghost! You are so big!”

Jon laughed, hardly reaching down to ruffle his head and ears. “Hard to believe he was the runt of the litter once,” he commented.

“Really?” Sansa slightly crouched as she pulled her hand out to him.

Ghost leaned towards her to sniff her hand though his tall swung back and forth excitedly. He licked her hand not even a second later then gave her a big lick on her cheek. Sansa wrinkled her nose.

“Ghost, sit,” Jon commanded, and the huge dog dropped to his butt instantly.

“You weren’t kidding about well trained.”

“Aye, he’s a big dog and he’s very playful. I needed to make sure he was well trained. I honestly don’t need to have him on a leash, but it’s the law.” Sansa nodded as she stood back up.

“Well, let’s get him off that leash then.”

“Come on, Ghost.”

They walked further down the sidewalk, nearing the entrance into the enclosed dog park.

“How is he with other dogs?” Sansa asked as she closed the gate behind her.

“He’s good. Sometimes standoffish, but he can be easy going with most of the dogs here. I guess it depends on his mood.” Jon shrugged, turning to smile at her before unleashing his dog. “Go on, Ghost, have fun.”

Ghost took off the moment the leash was unlatched from his collar. He sprinted across the large park, meeting up with a dog here and there to sniff their hellos then he was off again.

“Aww, seeing all these other dogs makes me want to get one,” Sansa gushed.

“No pets?” Jon asked, waving her towards some park benches to sit on. She shook her head, setting her purse between her feet.

“I had a dog growing up though, well all of my siblings and I did.”

“That’s a lot of dogs.”

Sansa couldn’t help how wide her smile got. He remembered she had four siblings. It was funny how something so simple could make her so giddy. She knew it was because she liked him, a lot. He seemed as interested in her as she was in him. Sansa’s nerves were still jumpy, and her worries were eating away at her, but the feeling she got just talking with Jon, looking at him, and the easy flow between them alleviated much of her stress and anxiety.

“We took good care of them though. We were responsible for taking care of our own dogs.”

“What was your dog’s name? Jon inquired, leaning back against the bench. He was looking out at the park, keeping his eyes on where Ghost ran.

“Lady.”

“Lady? Like Lady and the Tramp?” he jokingly asked.

“Not quite. She listened to my commands well and she was so prim and proper, my little sister joked that she was a little lady like me, and so the name just stuck.” Sansa shrugged, dropping her hands to her lap.

“That’s cute.”

“How’d you name Ghost?” she asked in return, noticing him setting his hand down on the bench in the small space between them. She was so hyper aware of him; it was immensely distracting.

“Well,” Jon started off, turning his head to look at her. She noticed sitting so close to him that his eyes were actually a dark grey rather than a dark brown like she initially thought when they first met. “He’s white like a Ghost, but mainly, I named him Ghost because he’s silent. He hardly barks at all and he’s surprisingly silent against hardwood flooring too.”

Sansa moved her hand from her lap to between them as well.

“That’s a rather interesting way to achieve a name, but it fits him fantastically.”

“I think so too. When I adopted him, the family that have his parents named him Snowy, but I didn’t think that fit him well at all,” Jon explained with a shake of his head. “I tried calling him Snowy the first few days, but it didn’t seem right to me, so for like three months I was calling him ‘hey you’ until I figured out his true name.”

A laugh bubbled up from her throat. “Oh my gosh! I can just imagine you walking around saying ‘hey you’ to get Ghost’s attention, that’s too funny!”

Jon chuckled deeply. “You know, he still responds to ‘hey you’.”

Sansa found herself laughing even harder, leaning over her legs as her body quaked from laughter. When she settled herself, placing her hand back on the bench, she brushed against his hand in the process. She pretended not to notice.

“So…I read your article, it came out yesterday,” Jon started off. Sansa felt her whole face heat up.

“Oh no,” she mumbled, quickly covering her face from his sight.

“I’m sorry? I just saw the magazine and remembered you were a writer for it…”

Sansa turned to Jon, waving her hands almost frantically. “Oh no! Don’t apologize, I just get embarrassed when someone tells me they’ve read anything I’ve wrote. I’m just a weirdo, so don’t worry.”

“I don’t think that’s weird at all. I get embarrassed when someone I know comes into the gym and I’m training someone.” Jon shrugged. “It’s one thing to tell people what you do, but it’s a whole other ball game when they see what you do.”

“Right, exactly. I know I’m not a shit writer but…” Sansa trailed off, slouching against the bench as her anxiety slowly seeped out of her. “I used to love getting praised when I was a child, but as an adult, I just can’t handle it face to face anymore. It’s funny but I actually handle criticism better than compliments.”

“I never liked being complimented and I still don’t care for it, but at least now I can pretend it doesn’t bother me,” Jon mentioned, giving her a quick wink though it was a terrible attempt as his whole face scrunched up along with his eye.

Sansa laughed again and that seemed to be his intention as he smiled brightly at her. A light brush on her pinky finger made her aware of how closely they were sitting together and how small the space between them had become. She turned away to watch Ghost, seeing in her peripheral vision Jon’s hand next to hers, his pinky finger lightly brushing up against hers. Licking her lips, she moved her pinky finger to also touch his as they flirted with each other.

They remained quiet, pinkies brushing and tangling with each other as they watched Ghost prance around in his freedom. Sansa bit down on her bottom lip before deciding to turn her eyes to Jon. He turned his head the same time she did, and they smiled at each other.

Maybe, Sansa thought, maybe I should just leave my worries at the door and see where things go…

\---------------------

Her heavy heels clapped loudly as she walked down the hall towards her handler for briefing on her mission tonight. It was surprisingly cold, so she wore the uniform with long sleeves tucked underneath her gloves and a thicker pair of flexible leggings. She could do nothing about her ears as she always kept her hair braided either down her back or up into a bun to keep it out of the way. Tonight, it was down her back.

She stopped at her handler’s door, knocking loudly.

“Come in.”

Sansa pushed the door open, stepping in to see Tyrion Lannister sitting at his desk comfortably. He was her handler at Hero Inc., her hero agency. He had at one point been the hero Mastermind with his super IQ, but like what can happen to many heroes in the business, he succumbed to drinking to deal with his emotions and thus lost his license as a hero. Eventually, Tyrion got a hold of his drinking and came back into the hero scene as a handler, taking a step back from the action and handling things behind closed doors instead.

Nowadays, agencies were very strict on mental health and every hero was evaluated after hard missions to keep them mentally healthy. Sansa appreciated the changes between the time her father was a young hero to her and her siblings being heroes as well. She tended to suffer from anxiety and insecurity, so being able to talk to someone when she wasn’t feeling her best or that she had done her best has gone a lot way to making her a better hero and a better Sansa.

“Birdie, thank you for getting here so quickly,” Tyrion said brightly, waving her along.

“No problem,” she answered cheerfully.

“How has the writing been?” Tyrion asked, waving her to take a seat at the front of his desk.

As she sat down, she said, “Good, it’s a nice stress reliever at times. As long as I stick with my due dates that is.”

“It’s nice extra money too, I’m sure. But everything else is okay?”

Sansa nodded. After the hell Tyrion had gone through, he was always adamant that the heroes under his wing were well looked after mentally, emotionally, and physically. It made her glad she was a part of the agency.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Tyrion waved his hand over to the wall on their right, as he spoke, he click on the remote to his projector, producing images for her. “The drug deal bust that ended up being a bust two weeks ago has actually turned up some useful information. The tip that was given to the cops and us was wrong, it wasn’t a drug deal going down. It was a weapons negotiation. The suitcase was filled with negotiation papers over the handling and purchasing of weapons. The weapons that are being shipped from Esso, particularly Braavos.” As Tyrion talked, he clicked through images showing the papers that were in the suitcase, the weapons listed in the papers to be negotiated, and the ships that were carrying the cargo.

“Now, we do have names of the underlings, but what we want most of all is the head of the operation. Intel indicates it is this man.” Tyrion clicked to an image of a man in his late forties with brown hair peppered with grey. He had a mustache and goatee with a sharp glint in his eyes.

“He looks familiar,” Sansa stated as she looked the man over.

“Right, he should. He goes by Littlefinger in the black-market circles, but his real name is Petyr Baelish. He’s mostly known for having many gentlemen clubs littered about King’s Landing, but he’s also rumored to be one of the big weapons dealers as well. It has been extremely hard to pin him for anything substantial; nothing seems to stick to his man. He’s slippery like an eel,” Tyrion commented, wrinkling his nose.

“He must have good lawyers then,” Sansa commented. Tyrion snorted.

“Unfortunately, that seems to be the truth of it. He likes to flaunt his money anyway he can by staging Broadway premieres, gambling tournaments, and charity balls. Intel has found a pattern in that usually they happen on nights when shipments come in for him though we’ve had issues in the past trying to pin down the location of his shipments.”

“Am I here to track down the shipments?” Sansa asked as Tyrion handled her a folder to look through. She wasn’t normally placed on tracking and tailing missions, but she liked to be well rounded when it came to her hero work.

“Not exactly,” Tyrion answered, changing the image of Littlefinger over to an event calendar. “In a week, Mr. Baelish will hold a gambling tournament and if our intel is correct, his shipments will be coming into harbor. We’re not quite sure what harbor though, he isn’t ballsy enough to have them come in at King’s Landing, so we’ve contacted heroes from other agencies across Westeros to keep eyes on their harbors.”

“Have you,” Sansa stared just as Tyrion nodded his head.

“We’ve contacted Three-eyed Raven for his input, but he said that he keeps getting some type of interference when he tries to peer into the future. He is on call if and when he is able to give us more intel.”

Sansa nodded, if Bran was having a hard time seeing into the future then it meant that Littlefinger utilizes someone who is able to block her brother’s power. Another strong telepath or clairvoyant person can do that.

“You want me to infiltrate the tournament?” Sansa inquired next as she flipped through the papers in her folder. She’d only done one infiltration mission, but she wasn’t the one infiltrating, it was Margaery. Normally, they wouldn’t have two heroes from two different agencies work together when infiltrating in civvies as the identity of the hero undercover can be compromised, but obviously, they were an exception.

“Yes, I know it’s a big mission especially going undercover, but it’s our best bet to get some information on Baelish, even if it’s only the location of the shipments. With your singing, you can entrance anyone like Baelish to tell you that information, though I would suggest his right-hand man before him.”

Sansa turned her head to see another image of a man. He had a square jaw, squashed looking nose and grey hair.

“This is Lothor Brune, Baelish’s right-hand man. I think he should be your target, get him alone then entrance him with your singing to gain information on the shipments then get out of there. I can’t be certain, but I’ve heard that Baelish has some way with persuasion, possibly an ability similar to your singing. It’s best to avoid him if you can,” Tyrion stressed.

“Got it, go after the right-hand man, avoid Baelish.”

“In the folder, there will be a blueprint of the building that will hold the gambling tournament including possible escape routes. I’ve provided all the information we have on Baelish, Brune and any other associates including other criminals you may come across. Your undercover information is in the back and tomorrow you should get a package in the mail, a wig, dress, shoes and other accessories will be within including an invite. Any questions?”

Sansa quickly absorbed the information she was given, but something seemed off with this whole thing. Someone was missing.

“Are we not working with Hero Enterprises?” Sansa asked, realizing that not once did Tyrion mention the other agency nor Crow whom she had worked with originally.

“Unfortunately, there were disagreements between the two agencies. We had wanted to get Rosemary on the mission, so that you both could go in without compromises, but she is already set for a mission and unavailable. As Crow is not a part of our agency nor you a part of theirs, we cannot compromise your identities to each other…” Tyrion trailed off.

Something didn’t make sense. She understood why they weren’t working together, but Hero Enterprise was far more renown than Hero Inc and so, would get dibs upon this mission, so how did they get this mission?

“Oh no,” Sansa mumbled as it dawned on her.

“Though we were tipped about the original mission and asked for assistance from Hero Enterprise, they do not wish to relinquish their part in the mission.”

“Meaning…” she urged on, though she had a feeling she knew exactly what her handler was going to say.

“Meaning…there might be another hero undercover, trying to get the same information as we are,” Tyrion sighed, slouching in his chair.

“No way! Tyrion! I don’t want to fight for the same information!” Sansa complained. This was an issue that happened time to time, because most agencies had different rules and regulations, there was no real way to establish rule on which agency got the mission.

Sansa thought it should be straightforward, whoever got it first continued with it, but at the moment there were laws being produced about this very thing within the Westeros government. Everything is at a standstill, and so, the agencies govern themselves until the government can get things straighten out. It didn’t use to be this terrible back in her father’s day, but then there hadn’t been so many agencies spanning through so much of Westeros and Essos.

“Think of it as a competition. If we succeed in this mission then you will gain more notoriety within the media and boost Hero Inc. ratings and stocks. This could be a big win for all of us,” Tyrion insisted, leaning forward on his desk.

“I won’t know who I’m going up against in this ‘competition’,” Sansa grumbled, quoting her fingers.

“No, you won’t, but neither will they.” Her handler smirked. “You’re a bright, strong and amazing hero, Birdie. You can do this.”

Sansa nodded, trying to feel encouraged by his words, but she was fearful at the same time. Could she really do this?

I don’t think I have much of a choice, Sansa thought, gripping the folder in her lap tightly. Something tells her that there was going to be more happening at the tournament than just information gathering…

\---------------------

Sansa had her phone pressed tightly against her face as she walked around in circles in her kitchen. She listened to the rings impatiently. Jon had asked her a few days earlier if she wanted to go on an official date Friday night and she had quickly agreed, but now that she had to infiltrate Littlefinger’s gambling tournament, she had the cancel. It was her worst fear about dating a civvie.

Canceling important dates because of work.

Especially so, when he didn’t know her true profession yet. It would just look like she was bailing on him every single time. Robb lost many girlfriends because of this very thing. Sansa chewed on her bottom lip.

“Hello?” Jon answered, his warm, deep voice seeping into her ear. It sent shivers down her spine.

“Hey Jon! How was your day?” Sansa asked as sweetly as she could, but she knew she sounded anxious.

“Good, it was a nice day and all my clients came in rather than canceling,” Jon stated then laughed which only made Sansa internally groan. “How was your day? You sound stressed.”

“Oh, it was good, it’s just…” Sansa had thought through exactly what she was going to say as to why she had to cancel. “I got a last-minute assignment for this Friday. I’m writing a piece about some billionaire’s event.”

“Oh,” Jon started out and Sansa’s heart immediately sank. “Well I’m glad you told me because I also need to cancel as well. I have an event I’m going too as well.”

Sansa quickly dropped onto her kitchen table chair in utter relieve. “Oh, good! I mean not good because we won’t be able to go on our date, but good because neither of us is bailing without good reason.”

Jon chuckled, sending another set of shivers and tingles throughout her body. “I really do hate to bail on you though, but you’re right. It’s good that it’s a mutual thing.”

“Would you like to push it to Saturday instead?” she asked quietly, a tinge of fear still curling around in her gut.

“I have to work a little later at the gym, but I’d love to if you’re alright with it being a late dinner,” Jon answered quickly, letting slip his own anxiety. Sansa felt her cheeks stretch from smiling so widely.

Jon had seemed so very composed whenever they met or talked on the phone, to hear him sound anxious for even a second made her feel better about her own nerves. It has been so long since she’s felt this way about a guy, she really didn’t want to ruin it so soon.

“Better late than never.”

“Right, I agree. So, we’ll go out Saturday night instead. I get off at 7, but I’ll shower and change at the gym to cut time going back to my place. Meeting at the same restaurant?”

“Yes, sounds good, Jon!” Sansa withheld the squeal she wanted to release.

“Great! Let me call you back in a few, I’m going to take Ghost out on a walk.”

“Sure, sure! I’ll talk to you later!”

It took a minute for her to hang up as they both kept saying goodbye to each other without hanging up. Finally, through a fit of laughter, she said goodbye and hung up. Sansa immediately squealed afterwards, feeling so much better now.

And with that situation handled, she now needed to mentally prepare for the infiltration Friday…

\---------------------

The hotel holding the gambling event was massive. Sansa smiled as she handled her invite to the man at the front desk before walking down the hall into the ballroom of the hotel. She looked stunning in her long red dress with thin spaghetti straps over her shoulders and a crisscross pattern down her back to just the rise of her butt. The dipped into a ‘v’ between her breasts with sticky tap keeping the material securely against her breasts to not reveal anything.

A mishap from her senior prom made sure that Sansa never had a repeat again.

The wig she was given was a dark, mahogany brown that curled down over her breasts and back. It reminded her of Marg’s hair though darker. Sansa gave herself a smokey eye makeup look with red lipstick and darken her eyebrows to go with the wig.

All-in-all, she looked amazing and unlike her normal self.

That fact brought a sense of faux confidence in her that she greatly needed. She spent the last day memorizing all of the information in her folder, everything she needed to know about Petyr Baelish and his right-hand man, Lothor Brune. She knew the entirely layout of the building with many escapes planned in her head in case the situation goes bad.

Her name for this mission was Alayne Stone.

Sansa walked around the tables where mostly men with some women participating here and there gambled in an effort to win their way up to Baelish’s table and the prize. As she roamed, she kept her eyes peeled for Lothor Brune. All she had to do was get him alone, sing her question to him and he’ll answer truthfully then she could get the hell out of dodge.

Missions like these made her extra nervous. Sansa had always struggled with her need to be a people pleaser and her anxiety issues. She always said ‘yes’ when she should say ‘no’ and allowed herself to get walked on growing up. When she decided she wanted to follow her father in his hero steps, that was when Sansa started to find confidence in her abilities especially when she put on her hero gear.

The mask somehow made her feel like an entirely different person, and so, her nerves and anxiety would vanish for the time she was dressed up, fighting crime. She felt invincible when she was dressed as Birdie. The training her father had her undertake, mastering her superpowers, it all helped her to become a better Sansa.

No longer would she allow people to walk all over her, to use and abuse her. She picked up the signs of toxicity in the people she had once called friends and abandoned them for her mental health. It took her a long time to realize she wasn’t entirely a victim, that she could be strong and a true hero for others who need it, but most of all, for herself.

Sansa still struggled with her anxiety, day to day, but every time she overcame her nerves was a win for her.

As she walked around, she took in the faces of the people around her, wondering who was a hero in disguise. Hero Enterprises had most certainly sent a hero to infiltrate the event like herself. It truly sucked that it came down to agencies fighting each other for missions at times, but it is what it is. Until the government can agree on how to handle everything, things were just going to stay up in the air.

Tyrion was right that gaining the information they needed here would be a great boost for her agency. Hero Inc. was not considered one of the best agencies to sign with. It had a new hero appeal until one of the other big agencies like Hero Enterprises would swoop in and convince the up and coming hero (if they were gaining notoriety in the media) to come to them instead. Sansa had yet to be approached, but she had yet to get any media coverage on her missions.

Even so, she had told herself she would not jump ship. Tyrion was a great handler, caring and he listened to her, taking in her ideas into consideration. She had a say in how her costume looked, she had a say in her hero name, and she was allowed to say ‘no’ to any mission if she felt she couldn’t perform well within the scope of the mission.

Margaery had told her all about Hero Enterprises, how they chose the hero name, costume and missions. They were all about the image which can be a huge thing, for sure, but at the expense of the hero’s comfort? Sansa rather pass. Marg loved her job, but she was never allowed to wear a less revealing hero costume, even when it was snowing outside.

There were pros and cons for all agencies, but Sansa knew she picked the right one in the end.

“Drink miss?” a waiter asked as he approached her. Sansa smiled, nodding and taking the thin glass of champagne though she didn’t intend to drink it.

She was allowed to drink a glass or two for appearance sake, but she rather stay sober completely, and if she is/has been found out then it was best to avoid any type of consumption. Sansa had made sure she ate before arriving.

She watched a few rounds of poker at different tables, trying to make sure she appeared apart of the whole scene. Sansa had even made sure to know how to play poker, just in case.

Her eyes quickly caught sight of a bunch of men at the far right. Turning her head, she immediately noticed Petyr Baelish. He was far shorter than she anticipated, but he held himself tall as he walked, and there beside him was Lothor Brune. He appeared like he’d rather be anywhere but here. Then again, that seemed to be his personality altogether from what she had read.

Many tables stopped to watch Baelish enter the hall. He walked with Lothor beside him and bodyguards encircling them. Sansa bit the inside of her cheek; she knew there would be tons of bodyguards around them and that the only chance she had to get Lothor alone would be when he broke away from the group.

Following their movements, her eyes caught another sight that shocked her entirely.

There, at a gambling table, watching Baelish walk to his table in the middle of the hall, was Jon Snow. Sansa almost dropped her champagne glass at the mere sight of him. This was the event he needed to participate in?

Her heart started to beat rapidly, but also sink down into her gut. Why was he here? Was this the scene Jon liked to be apart was? Was he into criminal activity? She knew the gym he worked in was near Flea’s bottom, but she didn’t think he was a bad guy. Maybe she made the wrong judgement?

Sansa straightened her shoulders, she could compromise her mission with something personal, but the urge to walk up to him and dump her glass over his head was strong. Instead, she moved to a corner of the room, keeping her eyes on both Jon and Lothor. She watched as the minutes ticked by, seeing Jon advance in the tournament almost effortlessly.

He looked good, dressed in a dark button up, long sleeve dress shirt and pants. His hair was styled back from his face with his mustache and beard covering his jaw and encircling his lips. Jon was an attractive man. Sansa had really liked him, still does, but she needed to figure out why he was here and who he truly was.

Was he a good person who enjoyed gambling, or was he another criminal looking to either make bank or impress Petyr Baelish?

Sansa closed her eyes tightly as she remembered Arya say a long time ago – “We’ll always know who the bad guy is because Sansa always falls for the bad guys.”

Sighing, she opened her eyes to see everything was the same aside from Jon advancing closer to Baelish’s table. The memory of Arya’s words and the anxiety building up inside her forced Sansa to walk away from her corner and approach Jon’s table. She needed to know who Jon Snow truly was.

Taking an empty seat at the table, Sansa smiled dazingly to the men at the table.

“Came to join us little lady?” one man asked, big, burly and red hair and beard. He was Tormund Giantsbane from the gang Wildlings. He had petty crimes underneath his belt, but overall, from what Sansa could find on him, he was a good man. His gang was more Robinhood than thugs.

“Observer only,” Sansa answered before turning her eyes onto Jon.

He was staring at her with wide eyes, clearly Jon knew exactly who she was. Anxiety was building inside her now, what if he thought she was a criminal? She was dressed up with a wig! What was Sansa thinking?!

I wasn’t thinking, that’s the problem, Sansa thought painfully. She brought her hand out to Jon before he could reveal her real name.

“Alayne Stone,” she said then winked at Jon, hoping he would go along with it. He stared at her for a second before taking her hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought her fingers to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to them.

“Aegon,” he answered back. Even with the anxiety and nerves making her almost sick to her stomach, Sansa still found the ability to be taken in by him. Her gut swirled with warmth and tingles.

Sansa turned to Tormund who also kissed her hand and introduced himself. Finally, she shook hands with a large, portly fellow who called himself Samuel.

“How have you boys been doing in the tournament?” Sansa asked, crossing her legs as they proceeded to start playing.

Tormund laughed loudly. “Terribly! I’m only here for the fun, free drinks and food, and the presence of a beautiful woman.” He winked at the end.

Sansa laughed, calling him a flirt. “And you, Samuel?”

“So-so,” he answered softly, keeping his eyes on his cards.

“And you, Aegon?” Sansa continued, turning to catch his gaze. He was staring at her like he was trying to figure her out and she couldn’t blame him.

“The asshole is amazing at the game! He’ll be playing against Baelish before the end of the night!” Tormund announced with a slap to Jon’s back. She wondered why he was going by Aegon, it seemed to be the name that the men at the table knew him as.

Sansa smiled at Jon. “Quite the gambler, are you?”

“Here and there,” Jon commented, shrugging nonchalantly.

Sansa sat and watched as Jon played against the other men at the table. Tormund was correct in stating that Jon was amazing at the game, he was very strategic and calm. As Tormund commented at one point, Jon had a perfect poker face or resting bitch face.

During the whole affair, Sansa sat and suffered through her nerves. She wanted nothing more than to talk with Jon alone, to understand why he was here. At least with her, he had to know that this was the event she mentioned when she called to cancel their date, and Sansa knew she could use her anxiety as a reason why she was dressed up and going by another name.

What was his excuse?

He was going by an entirely different name than the one she knew him as and he had mentioned having to be apart of an event himself, but this specific one? Either there was something more going on that she wasn’t privy to, or Jon wasn’t who he had said he was when they first met. The thought that he was just another criminal was slowly breaking her heart. They had been talking for two weeks now, so it was still very new and fresh, but Sansa had found herself quickly falling for Jon.

Sansa tried to keep her eyes on Lothor as well, trying so hard to keep her focus on the mission, but Jon’s appearance was wreaking havoc on her mentally and emotionally. Her true target hadn’t gotten up from his spot next to Baelish since they arrived, so it might come down to her catching him going to the rest room. 

“Damn it, Aegon! You win again, you asshole,” Tormund grumbled though it was all in good-nature as he patted Jon roughly on his back.

“Good game,” Samuel said softly then stood up, excusing himself.

Tormund also left the table, mentioning food, leaving her with Jon or Aegon as they had called him.

Before Sansa could open her mouth though, Jon beat her to the punch. “Alayne Stone?” he asked, eyebrow arched up his forehead.

“I…I suffer from anxiety, so it’s easier to do these events in costume. It’s easier to not be myself here,” Sansa answered as honestly as she could. It was partially true, but she wasn’t here for her magazine job. “Aegon?” she countered.

“Jonathan Aegon Snow,” he replied easily. “I like going by my middle name at events like this.”

Sansa nodded, but that didn’t seem entirely true to her. There was more to this, she could feel like. Bran use to joke that she must have some type of intuition because she’d know things without knowing how she did. Maybe it was almost too easy for him to play the name game as to why he was here, but then the same could be said about her anxiety issues.

“I feel like you’re not being entirely truthful with me,” Sansa said honestly. Jon frowned, peering down at his lap then he reached over to place his hand over top of hers on the table.

“I want to be honest with you because I…really, very much like you; a lot,” he emphasized at the end. “Unfortunately, I can’t really say the entire truth right now, not to mention, it feels like I’m only getting half the truth from you as well.”

Sansa nodded, pressing her lips tightly together to keep them from trembling. She wanted so badly to just tell him she was a hero in disguise, but that would compromise her whole mission and hero identity, if she hadn’t already compromised her mission by interacting with him in disguise. Slowly, she turned her hand around to clasp their hands together.

“Just tell me this,” Sansa started, gripping his hand tightly within hers, “tell me you’re not a criminal.”

Jon’s mouth slowly opened in shock, he quickly shook his head but before he could answer, their table was approached by two men.

“Aegon Targaryen, we’re here to escort you to Mr. Baelish’s table.”

Sansa’s stomach twisted and turned. Aegon Targaryen. How stupid could she be?! She ripped her hand out from under his, moving to stand. She turned away from them, walking briskly to the bathroom as tears started to well in her eyes, threatening to ruin her makeup.

A hand pressed upon her lower back. Sansa gasped, turning to catch Jon’s eyes as he walked with her. “Keep walking,” he said lowly, leading her towards the small hall where the restrooms were.

She had the mind to punch him square in the face, but she held back, knowing she couldn’t afford such a scene, but once they were alone…

Jon opened the door to the small wheelchair bathroom, softly pushing her inside and closing them within. Sansa spun around, aiming to sock him in his cheek but he easily caught her fist. “Sansa please!”

“Don’t you dare! You’re Aegon Targaryen! One of the biggest crime bosses in King’s Landing! How could you lie to me!?” Sansa cried out, yanking her fist back and putting as much space between them as she could in the small bathroom.

“Let me explain!” Jon tried.

“No! I don’t want to hear your terrible excuses! You’re a fucking lying asshole!” Sansa screeched, causing the walls, mirror and toilet shake. “You’re nothing but disgusting scum beneath my feet and you don’t deserve a chance to explain!”

The mirror suddenly cracked. Sansa breathed deeply, stopping herself before she got out of control. Jon was staring at her, eyes widened as he took in the damage she caused the mirror.

“Birdie?” he asked, glancing between the mirror and Sansa.

“No,” she mumbled, but it was too late. There were no other heroes in King’s Landing with her ability. She wasn’t all that famous yet, but she was known.

“Fuck, I should have known,” Jon stated, covering his face with one hand.

“What do you mean ‘should have known’?” Sansa asked fearfully. Already a plan was forming in her mind on how she was going to knock Jon out and escape the hotel.

Jon pulled his hand away to stare hard at her, staring deeply into her eyes before sighing almost defeatedly. He reached inside his back pocket as she brought her hands up in front of her, prepared to scream a shockwave of sound at him when he produced a black thing.

“Catch.”

Sansa barely caught the black thing in her hands from how tightly she held her fists. Her father would disapprove her reaction time. Turning the black thing over, Sansa realized it was a mask. A very recognizable mask.

“Crow,” she uttered in disbelief.

“Aye,” Jon answered, leaning back against the door.

Sansa swallowed hard, staring down at the mask. Her vision was starting to blur, her mind in complete disarray while she tried to process everything. Jon was Aegon Targaryen, but he was also the hero Crow. How?

A hand brushed her shoulder before Sansa fell into Jon’s arms. “I don’t understand,” she admitted, crying into his shoulder. She felt one hand brushing up and down her back soothingly while the other pinned her to his shoulder.

“My real name is Jon Snow, it’s the name I’ve known since I was a babe. When I moved to King’s Landing to pursue my hero career, my DNA was taken at my agency. It was there they found I was related to Rhaegar Targaryen, a bastard son that he sent away instead of acknowledging,” Jon said deeply, his voice tinged with raw emotion.

“To infiltrate my late father’s business, I went undercover, taking Aegon Targaryen as my alias. I am who I said I am when we met, but there is more to me that I didn’t want to reveal so soon to you. I’m so sorry, Sansa.”

“I’m sorry too, Jon,” Sansa mumbled, pulling back from his shoulder. “I assumed the worst of you without trying to understand.”

Jon smiled and shook his head. “You’re a great hero, you assumed mostly right about me. You don’t need to apologize.” He brushed back the strands of fake brown hair from her face then cupped her cheek.

“I’m still sorry,” Sansa stated firmly, smiling through her tears. “So, we’re both on the same mission then?”

“Aye, we’re competing against each other.” Being this close to Jon, smelling his cologne and the internal turmoil she had just went through was making her dizzy and warm. His thumb wouldn’t stop brushing up and down her cheek either, soothing her farther.

“I’m supposed to get Lothor Brune alone to get information out of him.”

Jon nodded. “I’ve been listening in on everything around me and once I’m at Baelish’s table, I can listen in even more on his plans and get him to talk as Aegon.”

“Wait, aren’t you supposed to be at his table now?” Sansa questioned, pulling back slightly though Jon wouldn’t let her go too far from him. He smirked darkly with a shrug.

“I said I had some business to take care of first…”

The craziness of everything mixed with her alleviating anxiety and Jon’s intoxicating heat and smell completely consumed her. She brought her hand up his neck to comb through his hair then bring his head down to her. His lips were warm and so soft, pressing against hers. A soft moan left her lips only to be devoured by Jon’s as he took over the kiss.

The kiss was hard and hot, consuming every thought within Sansa’s mind. She couldn’t think about the mission, the information Jon dropped upon her, or even what they were doing, locked inside the wheelchair bathroom, making out. She could only focus on his lips, his arms pressing her into his chest and tongue slipping into her mouth. Tangling together as the kiss become more and more heated.

Warmth trailed down her body, pooling between her legs. She had dreamed of what kissing Jon would be like, but she never thought it would be this intense. It was possible that it only felt so intense because of everything else, but Sansa didn’t care. She lifted her leg up to drag the heel of her shoe down his shin while gripping his shirt and hair within her hands. One of Jon’s hands traveled down her back, cupping her ass cheek tightly in his grip.

Sansa laughed into his kiss, rubbing up against him with her arousal skyrocketing. She felt so very hot even with the dress being so slinky and light against her overheated skin. Jon dragged a strap down her shoulder, tugging until her breast was revealed only to be quickly covered by his hot hand. Her nipple puckered in the center of his palm, tingling at each brush of his tough skin. In the back of her mind, she knew things were moving rather quickly, but the thought of stopping sounded more agonizing than simply ignoring everything else around them.

Jon groaned deeply, ripping his mouth from hers to kiss down her jawline to her throat. She felt him grinding his hips against hers, feeling the outline of his cock within his pants. The fact that they were each on a mission of great importance, yet in a bathroom nearing closer and closer to fucking only increased the heat between them. The sensual drag of his lips against the skin of her throat mixed with his fingers plucking her harden nipple sent zings of pleasure throughout her nerve endings.

His lips quickly replaced his hand, enclosing around her nipple to lash his tongue against it. Sansa moaned loudly, her head leaning back on the wall behind her. His teeth closed around her nipple to give her a pinch of pain before he was soothing it away with his tongue. She was so aroused; Sansa was pretty sure she could get off with just his lips and teeth on her nipple.

Then abruptly, he was dropping to his knees.

“Jon,” Sansa whined at the loss of his heat, realizing how cold the bathroom was in comparison.

“I have to taste you before I go back out there,” Jon insisted, tugging up her dress and yanking her panties clean off her body. “These are mine,” he stated heatedly, winking with his whole face as he tucked it into his back pocket.

Sansa moaned again before his lips even touched her. He brought one leg over his shoulder then his hot breath blew against her cunt. The wet touch of his tongue dragging up her slit practically stole her breath away. She dropped a hand to his head, holding on as he devoured her cunt while she covered her mouth to keep from screaming.

His mouth covered her cunt, thrusting his tongue inside her while he thumbed circles around her clit. Sansa was so close to orgasming; she was getting closer and closer to that brink. Jon moved his mouth to cover her clit, swirling his tongue around the little nub. He pushed one finger insider her, testing her depths before pushing another finger in. Sansa gripped his hair within her hand, feeling the crunch of hair gel between her fingers.

Her orgasming was fast approaching. Sansa bit down on her lip, clapping her hand against the wall to her right to keep herself steady. Jon scissored his fingers inside her upon each time he pulled his fingers out, dragging against her inner walls while his lips sucked her clit almost harshly.

Tears leaked from her eyes then everything was nothing but bursting pleasure and white in her vision. Jon kept fucking her with his fingers, prolonging her orgasm and offsetting two smaller ones that knocked the air from her lungs. He helped her as she collapsed to the floor, cradling her against his chest, speaking soothing words in her ear.

“That’s my girl, how did that feel?” Jon asked in her ear, sending another jolt of pleasure through her.

“So good,” Sansa said in a whispery voice, reaching up blindly to kiss him.

Jon laughed as she kissed his eyebrow, nose, eye then his mouth. “I’m sorry for not telling you the entire truth, Sansa.”

“Don’t apologize, it was for good reason.” Jon grabbed a hold of her chin to kiss her softly on the lips again.

“We need to get back out there,” he stated glumly, helping her stand on her two feet again.

Sansa gasped when he gave her nipple a pinch before pulling the strap up on her shoulder, covering her breast again. She made sure to press the material of her dress against the sticky tape on her breast.

He helped to right her wig while she tried her best to fix his hair, she had done a real number on it. Jon laughed when he looked at himself in the cracked mirror.

“Sorry,” Sansa mumbled through her smile.

“You’re not sorry,” he shot back, trying to comb his hair back before giving up and scratching his scalp to get more of the gel out of his hair.

“You’re right, I’m not.”

“How to I look?” Jon asked once he was finished. Sansa had been fixing up her makeup before wiping the red lipstick from his lips.

“Like you had just fucked,” she answered honestly.

“Almost accurate.” Jon stared at her with his dark eyes, causing her insides to burn again. “Are you going to be okay?”

“I feel very relaxed now.” Sansa laughed, feeling quite loose and calm.

“Good luck on your article, Alayne.”

“Good luck in the tournament, Aegon.”

\---------------------

Sansa cut Lothor off as he was going to the restrooms. She touched his arm, flirted with him and when they were in the empty hallway alone, she asked him which harbor the shipments were coming in. His eyes glazed over then he answered, “White Harbor.”

“Thank you, Lothor,” Sansa sang softly then walked away from him. He’d be a bit disoriented before remembering what he originally was doing, leaving him none the wiser to what really happened.

Jon was seated at Baelish’s table, playing poker while they spoke. She caught his eye while walking across the large hall, giving him a wink before exiting the hall altogether. She hoped he would be okay by himself.

Once Sansa was out of the hotel and walking down the street, she pulled out her phone to call Tyrion and give him the info thus completing her mission. Tyrion was proud of her, complimenting her on a job well done before she took a taxi back home.

She spent the rest of the night, thinking about Jon, worrying over him and thinking about the situation as a whole. She had been agonizing over dating a civvie, over the canceled dates and misunderstandings that were bound to happen. Sansa had never thought about dating another hero. It was something she use to think about when she was younger, but it wasn’t entirely realistic when agencies kept their heroes’ identities tightly concealed.

Learning that Jon was actually the hero Crow made things much easier. He would understand the pressure of the job and canceled plans. He could also be a nice sound board on ideas she had to improve her suit and position at Hero Inc. It could be considered a conflict of interest as they both worked for two separate hero agencies, but that was also a good thing to have something separate from each other.

Her mother always said that her relationship with Ned worked out best because only one of them was a hero and they did separate things. It wasn’t entirely the same thing as her and Jon, but it was similar.

Sansa laid in her bed, thinking more and more about the pros and cons when there was a knock at her door. She jumped off her bed, reaching for a robe to cover her as she was only in a tank top and panties. She went to her front door, peering through the peephole.

“Jon!” she called out, unlocking her door as quickly as she possibly could.

“Hey, I hope it isn’t too late for you,” Jon said in greeting, glancing at her robe.

“No, I was still up,” Sansa answered, waving him inside. It was a little pass one in the morning. “How’d it go?”

“I got some good information on him, maybe we’ll be able to get something to stick to the weasel,” Jon commented, looking about himself at her apartment. “Did you get the information on the shipments?”

“White Harbor.”

“That’s great.”

Sansa hummed with a nod, clasping her hands together behind her. Jon turned back to stare at her, his eyes darkening as he took her in.

“I really like you so much, Sansa. I hope things didn’t happen to quickly between us because I don’t want to fizzle out,” Jon admitted, rubbing the back of his head.

“I don’t want to fizzle out either. It’s…been so long since I’ve wanted to date anyone, be with anyone and I don’t want to lose that with you too.” She didn’t want to burn to hot with him then go out just as easily. Her mother was adamant that she build something slow and strong when she found the right one for her.

That was something she wanted as well.

“Then I will kiss you goodnight and see you tomorrow night for our date, we can discuss everything then.” Jon came up to her, cupping her cheek.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Sansa stood on her tiptoes while he leaned down to kiss. His kiss still sent shocks down her spine and warmed her tummy. His lips were still addicting and the urge to press on, to go further was there, but she managed to pull back from his intoxicating kiss.

“Goodnight, Jon,” Sansa said quietly.

“Goodnight, Sansa,” he answered back, walking to the door and glancing back at her before shutting it behind him.

Maybe somethings work out better than she anticipated, maybe somethings happen for a reason, and maybe Sansa should let her worries not bother her so much…


End file.
